


Recovery

by RamblingSquid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingSquid/pseuds/RamblingSquid
Summary: Genji is haunted by his past as he struggles to cling to what remains of his humanity. (Set in Genji's initial years with Overwatch, immediately after his near fatal fight with Hanzo.)





	1. A Waking Nightmare

Angela was the first member of Overwatch to gain Genji’s trust. She had brought him back from the brink of death, after all. She fought tooth and nail for his life. It would have meant more had he not deserved death in the first place. If only she knew the misery life brought him. But he could not blame the doctor for his misery, no: the blame was on himself.

Hanzo, his older brother and the proud heir of the Shimada clan, had struck him down. Genji brought shame upon their family’s name, no doubt due to his lack of interest in the family ‘business’. There was no singular reason Genji was disliked within his family: everything about him seemed to reject their core values. Every rule given to him was defied, perhaps only for the thrill of rebellion itself. 

Remembering the look of disdain on his father's face still made Genji smile. In some strange way, he enjoyed causing his family unwanted grief, but especially Hanzo. His finicky nature made him particularly easy to annoy. A whistle at just the right moment or a firm pat on the back would startle Hanzo just right. His nostrils would flare and Genji could almost feel himself flinching from the memory of Hanzo raising his hand. But that had all been in jest, “brotherly love” and all that. Genji never expected for things to get as serious as they had. 

He had been bed-bound for a month, but it felt like an eternity. He still wasn't sure how he got here in the first place. One moment he was on death's doorstep at the family shrine and the next he was here, bandaged but still in excruciating pain. Once the medication had kicked in, he managed to take in his surroundings; the room was small, white, and mostly bare save a sleek medical cabinet on his left and a metal chair on his right. Back then even breathing hurt. 

On the second day the doctor had explained where Genji was and identified herself as Angela Ziegler. She would not disclose how they had found him, but what she had told him was a relief. Overwatch was an organization he had heard of. They were heroes known the world over. What on earth they wanted with a nearly dead playboy, he had no idea. 

When she told him her intentions of cybernetic augmentations, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Well. He knew the pain he felt was unbearable, but he couldn't comprehend the irreparable damage his brother had caused. Why had Hanzo not granted his worthless brother the death he deserved? 

Genji’s fate was worse than death. A waking nightmare. He agreed to the augmentations only because he could not stand the pain, but after the first week he began having second thoughts. The first augmentations he was equipped with felt stiff and clunky and he could feel nothing through thick synthetic gloves. He felt so far removed from being human even then. 

As the days passed, more parts were fit to his body and modified by Angela’s request: it was then he knew she meant well. Her kind eyes narrowed with concern at the pained groans Genji would let out if one of the bolts on his chest plate was being wound too tight. She made sure he felt no more pain than was absolutely necessary. She made him feel more human on days he could not bear to look at himself in the mirror. 

She asked him questions to take his mind off the pain when nothing more could be done about it. He answered the best he could, but never gave her the name of who did this to him. Genji had admitted it was someone close to him and that he deserved it, but would say nothing more. Even weeks later, he still had not told her. He knew how she would respond anyway: shock and horror. She would think his brother unforgivable, but she did not know what an ass he had been to Hanzo. 

“How disrespectful.”

He could hear his brothers words echo in his mind even now. His eyes stung with tears but they would not come. He would get no satisfaction from crying, just as he had not gotten the satisfaction of death. Instead he was stuck here in this room, in this place: it was to be his purgatory.


	2. Memories

As the weeks stretched on into months Genji went through so many physical changes it was as if he were going through puberty a second time. More prototypes and parts were developed and tested on him, far more than he could ever count, and with each test he felt further and further from being human. His sense of touch was dulled and the finesse of his flesh and blood fingers was long gone. It would take years before his cybernetic hands even rivaled the speed of his old ones.

One of the few things that grounded him was his anger. It permeated his every moment within Overwatch. But he knew that if he could feel something as strong as his rage that he was, if only in some small way, still human. It was rare that he allowed his anger to be seen, even by the doctor. She made it hard with the pressing questions she asked. 

Sometimes he felt like she knew more than she lead on about him and his brother. By all accounts, she could have known. She knew about his family, at the very least. Apparently his family name was why he was saved, or at least partially. Overwatch knew about the Shimada clan and their “business” within Hanamura. She explained, after much coaxing, that they had rescued him in hopes of infiltrating the Shimada’s from the inside. 

His response was hardly immediate. It took him days to mull over the idea of dismantling his own family. Well. He used the term loosely. He was sure nobody within the clan, not even his brother, would call him family now. They wouldn’t even recognize him. The realization crashed over him like a wave. He would do it.

Although he had agreed to the plan, he was still months away from full rehabilitation. His hands were one thing, but his new legs and arms felt entirely too rigid. He was learning how to walk again, how to do most things again, but his stiff limbs made it nigh impossible. His frustration was apparent to the doctor, who had been checking on his progress daily. A physiotherapist had been trying to help him through it all and, while Genji was thankful the man spoke fluent Japanese, he wasn’t keen on working through the pain or his own anger. 

He was careful never to direct his rage at the doctor or any of the medical staff she had on call, but keeping it bottled up never seemed to last long. He would wait until nightfall, when he was left alone, to cry. He would remove the face plate of his mask so that he could at least wipe away the tears that streamed down his scarred face. 

“How hideous.”

Recalling his brother’s words only made him sob louder. Surely death would have been better than this endless torment through rehabilitation. More and more his anger grew concentrated and volatile: directed not only at himself, but Hanzo. His life was like this now because of what his brother did. Perhaps Genji had started the shouting match himself, but his brother had turned it into a full-scale spectacle: reaching for his weapon. 

His eyes stung as he stared at the ceiling. Red and swollen from his crying, he couldn’t do much else but sleep. He spent many nights like this until one night someone heard him. He knew something was wrong when he thought he heard something out in the hallway mid-sob. He silenced himself immediately and scrambled to return the face plate to its rightful spot as the door slid open. 

Doctor Ziegler, hair down for the night and dressed in a robe, strode inside and shut the door behind her. With his face plate back on, he hoped she would think he was sleeping, maybe having a nightmare, and move on. But no. The doctor approached his bed, mug in hand, and took a seat in the chair next to him.

“How long has this been going on?”

Her voice was weary and tired, but stern. His confession came out in a choke after a few moments of silence. She sat on the side of his bed once he had given permission and offered her mug out to him.

“Chamomile. It will help.”

He sat up and took the mug, allowing the warmth to soak into his synthetic hands before placing it on his bedside table. He watched her for a moment in the darkness. Her brows were furrowed with unbridled concern as she stared back at him. His silence spoke volumes and after a few more moments she got to her feet and offered an apology for intruding.

“Please, inform me if you feel like this again.”

His heart felt too heavy to tell her that he felt like this daily. With a nod from him, she strode out of the room and closed his door behind her. 

He closed his eyes in the darkness and, for the first time in weeks, drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	3. Isolated

Once Genji had mastered the art of walking again, he was not only allowed to leave the medbay, but was given his own room in the base. The doctor had smiled when she handed the keycard to him and directed him to the wing of rooms closest to the medbay. The room was small with a bunk bed that folded into the wall and not much else but a dresser on the opposite wall. He was sure that if his arms were just a few inches longer he could touch the two opposite sides of the room at once. 

“How quaint.”

The voice of his brother was but a faint whisper in the back of his head. He closed his eyes and tried to rid himself of the memory, of his brother’s voice, and succeeded for the moment. He would not allow tears, not now, and not over Hanzo.

Genji never did end up spending much time in his room. He felt as lonely and as isolated in his cramped quarters as he did in the medbay. Much of his time was spent exploring the base to the best of his ability. Though he could walk on his own it took a lot of his effort and energy. After being bedridden for so long his body simply wasn’t used to exerting itself. 

The walking wasn’t exactly exhausting, but the aches and pains were. Usually the pain was tolerable, enough so that he could ignore it through gritted teeth or take the medication prescribed to him from the doctor. But some days the pain was unbearable. And on days like those, he would bring himself to the medbay and request to see Doctor Ziegler herself.

He always waited for her, no matter how long it took. Others doctors and medical professionals offered their help, but he would always refuse. He trusted Doctor Ziegler because she was one of the few people on base that treated him like a human being. Others thought him to be an omnic or some science experiment gone wrong. In fact many of the researchers under Doctor Ziegler took a keen and often probing interest in his progress. He avoided them and their questions at all costs.

Once inside the good doctor’s office he felt almost at ease. She was the only person on base he felt comfortable with. Around her he could let down his guard a little. They would chat for a few minutes before she asked about his level of pain. It seemed that, no matter his response, she would offer a sad smile at his answer and apologize for his discomfort. Her smile warmed his heart each time he saw it.

Often the only way to deal with his intense pain was with a concentrated dose of the beam from her Caduceus Staff, but they went through this little routine of questions each time he visited her anyway. He was happy to answer her questions and enjoyed the familiarity between them while he could.

The visits were never as long as he wanted them to be, but he didn’t wish to waste the doctor’s time. He was lucky enough that she had time for him as it was, but he couldn’t help but feel lonely. Angela was the only friend he had made in Overwatch so far, but maybe that could change. Although he disliked the vulnerability she brought out in him, he felt it was almost necessary.

After all, if he wasn’t able to open up to anyone, his thoughts would just continue to eat away at him.


	4. Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been busy playing the Halloween update.

Malfunctions were inevitable, but he hadn’t anticipated them to start happening the way they did. 

One day, about a month after he was moved into his own quarters, Doctor Ziegler had called for him over the PA system. He was to report to her office immediately. He was in the middle of lunch with a new acquaintance: a man who never seemed to shave or remove his goofy looking hat. The man shot him a knowing look and grinned wide.

“Best to not leave a lady waitin’, especially not a real lady like Angie.” 

McCree had a point. With some reluctance Genji rose to his feet, waved a farewell to the cowboy, and headed out of the canteen. The pit of his stomach dropped on the way over, his head swimming with the possible reasons for her call. It had never happened before. Maybe there was an emergency? His pace quickened at the thought and he steeled himself for the worst.

He burst through her office door without so much as a knock. He was met with an audience. Doctor Ziegler, along with a small group of other medical professionals, stared at him with wide eyes. Their gaze made his skin crawl. As the embarrassment washed over him he offered an apology to the doctor and her team. She offered an explanation in turn: they were here to observe him perform a series of physical tests.

“I am sorry to have worried you, Genji. This will only take an hour of your time, I promise.”

The tests were simple enough. Thankfully it was more of a technical demonstration of his cybernetic body than a physical examination. And with Doctor Ziegler guiding him through the motions, he felt relieved. Well, about as relieved as he could be with a group of onlookers. He was surprised to see his physiotherapist among the group. He hadn’t seen the man in weeks. Genji had all but refused his help in the beginning, so maybe that was why.

Once all the tests were done, Doctor Ziegler thanked everyone for their patience and Genji for his time, before asking everyone but him to leave. He felt his stomach flip. When the room was empty, save the two of them, the doctor finally turned and smiled at him. He smiled back beneath his visor, a blush creeping over his cheeks. 

“I am truly sorry, Genji. I would have given you warning, but the director was insistent it be a surprise examination. Are you alright?”

She took a step forward and lifted the back of her hand to his chest plate, where the core energy supply of his new body sat snugly against his heart. She was checking his external heat, which was only growing because of her proximity. She then withdrew her hand with a soft click of her tongue, offering an understanding smile.

“It was stressful, I know. It won’t happen again if I can help it.”

He nodded and thanked her for her concern, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. But even that brief moment of contact made his vents kick in, making Angela’s brows raise. 

“Genji? It seems you are having a malfunction of some sort, hold on.”

Her tone had turned serious. She had slipped into doctor-mode in a single moment. With that she scurried over to her desk, returning with a screwdriver one one hand and a spray can in the other. Genji could only watch as his blush grew deeper, his fans kicking in shortly after.

There was no denying he felt something whenever the doctor smiled at him, but this had to be some sort of glitch. He was no stranger to love or romance and their warning signs, but that was all in his old body. Perhaps this one had different signs. If this body couldn’t handle something as common as butterflies in his stomach, how was it meant to withstand the stress of a mission? 

He felt a twinge of embarrassment as Doctor Ziegler removed a panel on his chestplate and began spraying compressed air into his energy supply. But after just a few moments, he felt a lot better. His systems returned to their normal temperature after a couple minutes of spraying. With a sigh of frustration Doctor Ziegler sprayed the last of the compressed air before tossing the can.

“It appears there are more kinks to work out than I had originally thought. We need to work through these problems immediately. Would you feel comfortable spending a few nights in the medbay while we sort it out? I am worried you might overheat again without much warning.”

Genji agreed with only one condition: he was to share a room with someone, anyone else. He had staved off his recent loneliness only because of the freedom he had been granted. Without that, he would sink down into the depths of his head once more. Angela accepted the terms, of course, and led him to the closest room with a bed free.

It just so happened that, somehow, McCree was occupying the other bed in the room. Somehow, in the two hours that had passed since Genji was called to the medbay, McCree had managed to break his ankle. 

For once, Genji didn’t feel trapped in his room.


	5. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been almost a year since I last updated this fic. I had this chapter mostly written out and decided I should post it. If I continue to write for this fic, it may end up going a different direction and I hope you all can understand that. Sorry again for the wait. Please enjoy!

Sharing a room with McCree ended up being more than Genji could handle. He knew he wouldn’t get much peace and quiet with the talkative cowboy around, but he thought he might at least get some rest. McCree was relentless in his curiosity and asked many personal questions Genji refused to answer. He wasn’t sure if the other man meant to be intrusive or not, but Genji knew his new boundaries and drew himself further inward with each question asked. 

But he hadn’t always been like this.

In his life before his near fatal fight with his brother, before becoming a cyborg, before joining Overwatch, he had been pretty social. And quite the flirt. It was almost surreal to think of now. His confidence was all but shot and he could barely stand to look at his scarred face in the mirror. And to think, a year ago, or well, even a few months ago, he was wasting his money on arcade machines and expensive booze. 

Turns out that going through a near death experience can really turn your life around. Who knew? He wasn't sure it was for the better though. The Genji he was once, was gone. He almost pined for his old life. He wasn't happy with his life even then, far from it. He was the life of every party he attended, sure, but the parties were just another distraction. The attention, the booze, the games, the women; they were all just distractions from his life at home. 

Hanzo was not a bad brother, or hadn't been back then, but as the eldest son and heir of the Shimada empire there were certain expectations the family had for him. One of which was keeping an eye on his rambunctious younger brother. This always led to arguments and fights between the two of them. Genji could not do anything without the rest of his family knowing and the lack of privacy drove him mad. 

In their adolescence the brother’s fighting only got worse. Hormones made everything much more volatile between them. It was the driving force that turned Genji to the party scene and ultimately into a social butterfly. If he had friends outside his family, after all, he could spend more time away from home. He could distract himself from his responsibilities. And if things ever went belly-up, he could stay with a friend, or maybe even couch surf until he could find his own way in life.

Aside from his adolescent apathy, he knew he would never make it in his family’s ‘business’ because he lacked the necessary detachment. The first business meeting he ever attended was in his teens, though his brother was on the cusp of adulthood, and it was an induction of sorts: both for him and Hanzo. 

Remembering the details of that meeting still made Genji’s stomach drop. Hanzo, a fledgling archer at the time, was presented with a fine bow during the induction. It was his, if he would go through the initiation: shooting one of the family’s servants in the back of the head. Genji couldn't believe what he was hearing, but when his brother accepted their terms and knocked an arrow back, he felt a part of himself die. He was sure a part of Hanzo died too that day, if there was anything left alive anyway.

Genji closed his eyes as tears streamed down his face in silence. He didn't watch what happened next, but he heard the arrow hit its mark and the dying gasp of the servant which followed. He knew for certain, right then, that he didn't want to be a part of this family, let alone their ‘business’. It was the first and last meeting he attended. 

From then on, he knew he couldn't trust his brother. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t trust anyone ever again. It just meant Genji had to become more careful about who he could trust. 

And now, he wasn’t sure if the overeager cowboy was worth his patience.


End file.
